Switching Sides
by MagickBeing
Summary: Harry is pulled into another plane by a strange mist, where good & bad flip. Will he be able to live with the deeds done by his astral twin, & convince others of his repentence, or will he be tempted into doing something dire? Slash. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. JKR's.

**Switching Sides  
**.Chapter 1

The grounds of Hogwarts were blanketed in darkness. Rain pounded against the castle, accompanied by roaring thunder. Peering out into the storm from his cabin window, one Rubeus Hagrid ran a hand through his tangled beard, stroking the head of his dog Fang with the other. Fang let out a low growl. Hagrid gave the dog a small smile, scratching behind his ear.

Fang roughly shook his head, and barked, his fur standing on edge.

In a gruff whisper, Hagrid turned to him and asked, "'Srong boy?"

As if in answer an ethereal bolt of lightning jolted through the dark clouds outside the window, illuminating Hagrid's hut for a single instant. Fang let out a loud whimper, his tail darting between his legs as he scrambled to his feet and hid beneath the kitchen table.

Hagrid eyed the dog worriedly, letting his hand fall to his side and mumbled something along the lines of, "Bloody coward."

Turning back to the window, Hagrid strained his eyes through the darkness to see the Giant Squid leap from the lake, water lapping along the shore as it thrashed it's giant tentacles. Behind him, Fang barked again.

Hagrid grinned and turned from the window, "It's nuthin' boy, the storm's jus' got the Squid excited is all."

Another bolt of lightning flashed outside, and behind Hagrid's unsuspecting back, a dark figure darted past his window.

With a single step, Hagrid walked from the window to the table. Hagrid stared down at a basket full of scones. Grabbing one, he kneeled down and offered it to Fang. The dog's golden eyes focused on the treat and he gently craned his neck to sniff it. After a moment, he whimpered again, his head falling to the floor. Hagrid chuckled, tossing the scone on the floor for him to eat later, and climbed to his feet.

Fang let out another whimper as Hagrid stood, burying his nose in his paws just as the door to the hut blasted open, the wood hanging on its hinges. Hagrid turned, eyes wide.

Suddenly the door to the hut blasted open, the wood hanging on its hinges and Hagrid turned, his eyes wide. Rain poured onto the wooden floor of the hut, and another bolt of lightning crackled overhead, illuminating the dark form of a stranger. Red eyes glinted in the night. As Hagrid hurried for his crossbow, the stranger lifted a piece of wood from his cloak, yelling something at Hagrid's large form.

"Avada Kedavra!"

A blast of green shot out from the stranger's wand, blowing his hood backward to show two slitted eyes amidst the green.

Harry awoke in a cold sweat, choked for breath. Coughing, he hoisted himself up, squinting at the dark red canopy around him. Pressing his palm to his forehead, he swore softly, and groggily shook his head. Suddenly, the images of the dream came back in a torrent to his sleep fogged mind and he swore again. The distant sound of screaming sounded through his mind.

Grogginess apparent in his voice, he whispered aloud, "Hagrid."

Hurriedly untangling himself from a web of crimson blankets, he leapt from the bed, nearly tripping on the sheets that had spilled onto the floor. With seeker like reflexes, Harry caught himself on the desk near his bed before falling completely, clumsily knocking off his Dark Arts book. The noise echoed through the dormitory.

Somewhere across the room, another Gryffindor stirred, meekly calling, "Harry?"

Harry ignored Neville, grabbing his glasses from the desk and scrambling to his feet. He darted towards the door, tugging it open and clambering down the stairs. He could hear Neville calling his name behind him, waking the others. The stone was bitingly cool beneath his feet as he ran blindly down the stairway, and through the common room to the portrait hole. He could hear his roommates hurrying down the stairs behind him, calling his name.

The girls' dormitory door let out a loud creaking noise as Lavender opened it, calling out into the darkness, "What's going on?"

Harry said nothing as he pushed the Fat Lady open with hurried force, ignoring her indignant cry from being awoken so abruptly. He hurried down the corridor, torches bursting into flames and lighting his way as he went. Somewhere in front of him, he could hear the stairs shifting, and he urged himself to go faster.

_Hagrid, Hagrid, Hagrid..._

Darting around the corner, the sound of Harry's bare feet hitting the stone resonated through the halls. He hurried to the stairway, nearly loosing his balance on the first step before jumping the remaining length. Rather clumsily Harry rushed down the stairs, the staircase connecting with the second floor just in time to catch his weight as he leapt down the last two steps.

Pushing another door open, he again began running through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, nearly knocking a suit or two of armor over on his way. In his wake, disgruntled portraits whispered to each other, shooting curious looks at his retreating back. Harry rounded another corner, and came to a skidding stop, squinting his eyes in the dim light.

The torches in front of him burst into flames, as something dark worked its way down the hall toward him. His heart pounding in his chest, he looked at the dark form with curiosity.

To himself Harry whispered, "What in the bloody hell.."

Taking a step backwards, the thought of going the other way crossed his mind. Instead, he reached into his pyjamas, fumbling for his wand. His fingertips touched cloth, and cloth only. Pulling his pockets inside out, realization dawned on his face. Of course he didn't have his wand; it was still underneath his pillow, safe and sound. His eyes darted up and his breath hitched as the form edged closer, snuffling the torch flames with its darkness. Turning, Harry made for the other direction, only to find that the inky darkness of the form surrounded him.

The few torches that remained lit bounced their light off of the form, highlighting its cloud-like figure. Harry swallowed, staring through the fog with dark eyes. He could feel the space around him growing more suffocating by the second, and he put his palm against his forehead, feeling trapped. His scar prickled lightly, only adding to his feeling of despair.

As the fog neared, Harry broke out in a cold sweat. The fog reached out for him, wrapping itself around his legs. He screamed as the hallway plunged into darkness. Darkness embraced him, cradling his body in its hold, a light breeze playing with his hair. It caressed his skin, tugging at his clothes, and Harry found himself choked for air. He coughed, the touch of the fog shifting dramatically, wisps of the mist tangling itself in his hair, tightening around his limbs.

His scar began burning, the pain surging from his forehead to the back of his eyes. Thrashing against the mist, Harry clawed at the darkness enclosing his neck with his nails, gasping for air. His sudden movements caused his glasses to fall from his face, but the sound of the glass crashing against the stone floor never came. Harry gasped again as a burning sensation began working its way to his lungs.

He continued to dig at his skin, something moist meeting his fingertips.

_Blood._

And suddenly, the darkness released it's hold, the pain in his scar and lungs fading as quickly as it had started.

Coughing, Harry stepped backwards, his back hitting something cold and hard.

With his hand, he blindly felt around, but the cold stone walls of Hogwarts gave him little comfort. He coughed again, covering his mouth with his arm, tears prickling at his eyes.

_I need to escape... I need to... Hagrid!_

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, with a determination only a Gryffindor could have, Harry turned and darted head first into the smoke.

When the clammy sensation of the mist against his skin disappeared, Harry opened his eyes. The fog had released its grip, retreating into the shadows, and the torches again burned brightly, as if nothing had happened. Bending over with his hands on his knees, Harry began coughing again, the air burning his eyes. Rubbing at them with the back of his hand, he felt something wet drip down his chin.

He continued to cough.

Urgent footsteps sounded in the distance. With pained eyes, Harry looked up, a blurry form stepping from behind the corner. He let out a weak sigh, clearly relieved.

He was less relieved when he could make out whom the footsteps belonged to. The person's form got clearer the closer he or she walked-- in this case, a he. Standing in front of him, was no other than Draco Malfoy. His wand by his side, Draco gave him a hauntedlook, silver eyes flickering in the light.

Harry coughed again, pushing himself upright. Wiping at the blood coming from his mouth, Harry looked Draco in the eye; managing to choke out, "Bugger off, Malfoy."

Draco only stared, before pointing his wand directly at Harry's chest with a single fluid movement, "I wouldn't move again if I were you."

Harry stepped forward.

"I said, stay where you are," hissed Draco, holding his wand higher.

Harry snorted, stepping forward again, "Move it, Malfoy, I need to get to the Headmaster."

Draco smirked, and yelled, "STUPEFY!"

Falling to the floor, Harry's vision began blurring again, and a searing pain shot through his chest. Draco stepped towards him, his footsteps echoing in the dimly lit corridor, and Harry groaned. Beneath him, he could feel the stone vibrate. Trying to blink away the darkness, Harry looked up with squinted eyes to see Draco's pale face leaning over him.

The Slytherin smirked, his wand by his side, "You'll be doing no such thing, _murderer_."

It was the last thing Harry remembered before everything went black.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Woah, I'm coming out with a lot of new stories lately, huh? You know the drill; review if you want more. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. JKR's.

**To my reviewers: **Thank you. I'm pleased you all like it so far, and I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

**Switching Sides  
**.Chapter 2

When Harry awoke, the only sensation he was aware of was that of a throbbing headache. Groggily blinking up at the ceiling, Harry lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the glaring lights. His eyes darted around the room, his gaze wavering from the pulsing pain in his temples. What he could make out of his surroundings, however, were clearly unfamiliar to him. Everything in the room was a ghastly white, a white that radiated with a blinding purity, a purity clearly untouched by Muggle and Wizard alike. There were no windows or doors scattered across the walls, nothing that could give him any hint of where he was. A faint buzz surrounded Harry, and as the grogginess slid from his mind, it wasn't hard to identify it as very powerful and potent magic. Invisible threads of what ever enchantments had been cast on the room spun around Harry, sinking through his clothing and entwining themselves into his very being.

He shivered, pulling himself upright. A knot began forming in the pit of his stomach, a knot laced with panic and sheer desperation to find where he was. A white, padded wall greeted Harry, reminding him of the old Muggle movies that his Uncle had once watched. The movies that caused his uncle to constantly shoot him dirty looks and mumble to himself, "That's where your _type _belongs."

Harry swallowed thickly, trying to slow his breathing as he pushed himself from the floor and to his knees. The room beneath him lurched violently, the lights flickering and the shadows intensifying. He fell again to the floor.

With incredible difficulty, Harry turned himself so that his back was against the wall, his knees drawn to his chest. Softly, Harry yelled to the ceaseless nothingness that loomed over him, "Is anyone there?"

The soft hum of magic answered him, and with each ragged breath he took, Harry could feel the walls moving in on him, the shadows that lurked in the corners edging closer. The knot that grew steadfast in the pit of his stomach began working its way up his throat.

Again, Harry found himself yelling, "Is anyone there?"

Strange thoughts kept racing through his mind, memories of the previous night that couldn't be reality and yet were to authentic to be illusion. Harry lowered his head to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself. Images of Hagrid staring at him frozen, with wide, dark eyes consumed his mind. With a sharp intake of breath, Harry's head darted upright, watching in wonder as a door materialized on the opposing wall. The rectangular shape was only visible by light grey lines etched into the wall, signaling the edge of the door. Slowly, it swinged open-- open just enough to show nothing of what lay on the other side of the wall, but enough for a man in purple robes to step in. The door slowly retreated back into the wall, closing with a soft click.

Harry hurried to his feet, immediately recognizing the elderly man.

He ignored the spinning sensation of the room as he did so, only one thought present in his mind. He _needed_ to tell Dumbledore.

His words came out in a rush as the man looked at him with a calm, even gaze.

"Headmaster! I have something important to tell you--"

Dumbledore looked at him with a grim face, interrupting softly, "Yes?"

Harry looked at the elder man earnestly, "Hagrid's d... hurt-- I was there, I mean, not really there but-- the wards, the wards were broken and Hagrid's.."

Raising a hand, Dumbledore silenced Harry's rambling. His blue eyes set upon Harry's green, he said, "He's dead, Harry. He died last night."

Harry shook his head weakly, looking at the floor, which again seemed to move beneath him. He heard himself say, "N-no.. he-- he dived it.. I saw him.. he dived it."

Tears threatened his eyes, blurring his vision. The memories of the previous night were inescapable now, and the hope that it had all been an awful dream pulsed inside of Harry once more before fading into a fleeting, wishful thought

"Did he Harry?" inquired Dumbledore calmly.

Harry looked up, the emotions that threatened to consume him momentarily retreating, and searched for his voice.

"Y-yes.. I.. I saw him.."

"You were there?"

"No.." Harry looked at Dumbledore with confusion, "My connection, he.. he made me watch."

Stroking his beard, Dumbledore said, "I see. Do you know who killed him, Harry?"

"Voldemort," murmured Harry weakly, his eyes falling to the floor again, "Voldemort killed him."

Behind his half-moon spectacles, Dumbledore stared.

"Voldemort?"

Swallowing, Harry's eyes searched the floor as he said, "Y-yes. Voldemort."

Again, the room began moving beneath his feet and Harry grasped with numb fingers for the cool fabric of the wall. An awkward, tense silence embraced him and he leaned heavily against the wall again, his knees threatening to give.

"I see," said Dumbledore again, "And who is this Voldemort, Harry?"

Harry's head darted up, his discomfort temporarily forgotten.

"W-wha.. what?"

"Who is Voldemort?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times. This was unreal. He was being treated like he was a criminal, locked up in this room, and now, Dumbledore didn't know who Voldemort was? Hagrid was dead, shouldn't the Headmaster be searching the grounds?

"Wh.. what are you-- Hagrid's dead.. and you're.. you're standing here play.. playing head games with me? Sh-shouldn't you be searching for Voldemort? His killer!"

Dumbledore stepped forward, his eyes unusually calm, "We've already found his killer, Harry."

Harry's breathing hitched, and he searched the face of the Headmaster with desperate eyes. Slowly, he said, "You.. you've got Voldemort?"

"No, Harry," said Dumbledore. "We've got _you_."

Harry stared, clearly confused. His mind was racing, and he swallowed thickly, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Wh.. what?"

"You're Hagrid's killer," stated Dumbledore simply, "you were caught fleeing the scene by Mr. Malfoy."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, clearly outraged, "He's lying!"

"No he isn't, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly, shaking his head, "that is the one truth I _can _be certain of here."

And with those few words, Harry's world crashed. His knees buckled and he felt his shirt lift, the abrasive fabric of the wall rubbing against his skin as he slid to the floor, the lights flickering.

He was no longer looking at Dumbledore but past him, "You can't really believe him!"

Dumbledore sighed, looking down at Harry with surprisingly dark eyes, "The Minister will be here tomorrow," he paused, "You will be dealt with accordingly then.."

Harry visibly paled, his eyes wide as he focused on the Headmaster, "He's lying!"

The Headmaster suddenly turned, his robes swirling behind him, brushing against Harry. Grasping at straws, Harry yelled again at his back, "He's lying! He.. he's lying!"

Dumbledore said nothing, deftly padding across the room until he was near the wall. He murmured something softly under his breath, and Harry could feel the magic around him vibrate in response. Gradually, the outline of the door appeared again, and the wall opened.

"He's lying," repeated Harry, trying to lift himself to his feet. His limbs shook in response and he remained seated as Dumbledore sidestepped the door, blocking the view of the outside room.

Harry's breathing quickened, his heart pounding in his chest as Dumbledore went to depart. Lowering his voice, Harry's voice was now nothing more than a desperate whisper, a final plea for the Headmaster to turn and announce that this was all some cruel, cruel prank.

"_Please.._"

The Headmaster momentarily stopped, his back visibly taut.

"Yes?" asked Dumbledore softly, in a whisper so unlike his own.

Harry half expected him to turn, and morph into the figure of another man, but that never happened and Harry heard himself jump to wild conclusions, felt himself clinging to desperate hopes of consisting of Polyjuice potions and unforgivable curses-- anything to explain why the Headmaster was saying what he was saying, why he was acting so coldly to the boy that the Wizarding World's fate was relinquished to.

Harry pulled himself from his thoughts, whispering softly, "I don't know what.. what curse he's put on you but.. _please, _can't you see he's lying?"

The only response Dumbledore gave was to step from the room, the door closing behind him.

Harry stared at the unmarked wall in horror, unconsciously whispering to the nothingness, "He's lying.."

All that answered was the low hum of invisible enchantments.


End file.
